Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Wandering through a Faribault flower garden in autumn October 14, 2025

Flowers blooming a few weeks ago in the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

IN THIS FLEETING TIME before winter arrives, I find myself drawn to end-of-the-season blooms. And plenty remain, clinging to summer past, attaching to autumn present, but some already ceding to the inevitable cold and snow yet to come.

A mass of brown-eyed (I think) susans. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

Even as days grow shorter and nightfall presses dark upon the land, these flowers remain. And I delight in them wherever they stand, bend into the wind, catch the light of the morning and evening sun.

The roses are still blooming. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

Most surprising, perhaps, are the roses that linger. I dip my nose close, expecting the heady scent of perfume, only to be disappointed. They smell ever so faint, a scent barely noticeable.

When I took this photo in late September, Monarchs flitted among zinnias. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

Zinnias flash color, a beacon for monarchs.

Stunning sedum, absolutely beautiful in the evening light. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

Sedum and seed heads and sunny yellow flowers all cozy together, some spent, some still determined to survive as the season shifts toward winter.

Paver pathways weave through the gardens which include benches, a water feature, rock snakes and more. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

I feel this sense of urgency to focus my eyes on flowers, to imprint upon my memory their glorious beauty. And so I wander among the blooms and dying blooms in the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens in Faribault.

Photographed up close or at a distance, these flowers are lovely in the evening light of autumn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

I love this oasis on the Rice County Fairgrounds next to the historical society. It offers a peaceful respite just off heavily-trafficked Second Avenue where vehicles rush by, their drivers seemingly unaware of the nearby gardens.

The garden includes two rock snakes, this flower stone among the many forming the serpent. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

But I long ago discovered this spot. Perfect for a picnic. Perfect for wandering. Perfect for photographing flowers. Perfect for reflecting and learning and enjoying. I’m grateful for every volunteer who lovingly tends this garden so I can come here. Sit. Walk. Photograph. Snapshot the scene for future reference.

A grass stem glows in the light of sunset. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)

When winter comes with its wind and deep-freeze cold and snow, I will remember the pink roses, the bold brown-eyed susans, the grass glowing in the sunlight.

A coneflower seed head. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2025)

And when winter drags on, I will remember this place and how, when spring arrives, the perennials will resurrect and pop through the earth. I will remember, too, how seeds sown in the soil will sprout and push green shoots through the earth to leaf and blossom and bring me summer joy.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A rock snake in Faribault’s Garden of Eden August 27, 2024

The snake I found in a Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

AS THE BIBLICAL STORY GOES, a cunning snake tempted Eve, convincing her that she could eat fruit from a tree growing in the middle of the Garden of Eden. She believed the snake’s claim of knowledge and immortality. Turns our he manipulated her. Things did not go so well after Eve ate the forbidden fruit and shared it with Adam.

I stood atop a bench to get this photo of the long and winding Rock Snake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

Not all snakes are liars and evildoers. Some, like the one I found recently in a Faribault garden, are quite the opposite. The Rock Snake that stretches an estimated 40 feet across wood chips between a brick pathway and a rain garden in the Rice County Master Gardeners’ Teaching Gardens exudes only goodness.

The Rock Snake slithers (well, not really) past the rain garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

I resisted the temptation to snatch away a segment—a painted rock—of the snake. Some 220 painted stones comprise the serpent. I learned a lesson from Eve. Be strong. Don’t give in to those who would mislead you.

These painted rocks are themed to summer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
More sunshine and flowers on the snake’s body. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
And yet more flowers bloom on the Rock Snake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

Rather, I opted to photograph and enjoy the Rock Snake with its inspiring, joyful messages, its colorful art. A posted sign invites people to add their own painted rocks, lengthening the snake designed to bring a smile.

(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

And smile I did as I followed the snake’s winding body, bending low to study the art, the words. Many of the stones were painted at the Master Gardeners’ booth during the recent Rice County Fair.

An overview of a small section of the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Water features include a bird bath, pond and fountains. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Several benches offer a place to rest, contemplate and enjoy the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

These gardeners, through their volunteer efforts, have created Faribault’s own Garden of Eden in a spacious area next to the conservation building and the Rice County Historical Society on the city’s north side. It’s taken years to get the garden to this lush, well-kept, welcoming space.

Swiss chard grows in the trial garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

I enjoy coming here, meandering among blooming flowers and plants, past the water features, pausing to examine the fairy garden. And now there’s more to see in the Rock Snake and a new bee lawn with habitat. There are trial gardens here and free seeds for the taking and benches for sitting. It is, indeed, a bit of paradise, a respite, a place to rest and contemplate and envelope one’s self in nature.

Flowers are always blooming. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
A garden hose runs alongside the Rock Snake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
A sturdy dahlia blooms. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)

Goodness thrives here. I experience it with my senses. My eyes take in the birds, blooms, bees, butterflies, the colorful Rock Snake. I smell the scent of blossoms. I hear water burbling in fountains, birds chirping. And if I could pluck vegetables from the trial gardens, I would assuredly taste goodness. But I won’t. I will not be tempted. Rather I will look and not touch. Leave and not take. I will leave this bit of Eden as I found it, beautiful and wondrous, a place of peace for anyone who visits.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Students plant kindness in Montgomery, Minnesota June 22, 2024

Among the many kindness rocks painted by students at a Catholic school in Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

MOST HOLY REDEEMER Catholic School in Montgomery, you rock. I mean, really rock.

Kindness rocks have been planted in gardens outside Most Holy Redeemer Catholic School. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

Recently I discovered an assortment of kindness rocks in flower gardens outside this small southern Minnesota school that educates preschoolers through eighth graders. The school sits across Vine Avenue West from a stunning Catholic church with the same name. I appreciate beautiful historic churches. And kindness rocks.

Hope, always hope, one of my favorite words. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Most Holy Redeemer Catholic Church. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
You can feel the love that went into creating these kindness rocks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

To say I felt excited about finding the church and rocks in Montgomery would be an understatement. Both inspire, offer hope, encourage. In today’s world, we need more of all three, along with compassion and plenty of kindness.

Words that need repeating. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

A while back, I began collecting kindness rocks, which are actually painted stones with inspirational words and/or art written/painted thereon. I collect these rocks with my camera, photographing them rather than taking them with me. Not all are meant to be taken.

Imagine reading these words when you are struggling. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

The students at Most Holy Redeemer filled my heart, mind and spirit with such positive thoughts via their artwork. Reminders to be kind, friendly, forgiving. Reminders to be hopeful and strong. Those words, especially, resonate with me as I’ve overcome much in the past year while dealing with long haul COVID and vision issues.

This encouraging message fits me perfectly right now. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

“You can and you will” read one message. That could have been/be my 2023-2024 mantra. I expect many others have been uplifted by short messages that grace these stones. “You matter.” “You are loved.” Even if you know that, to read those reaffirming words feels incredibly validating.

We all need to read these encouraging words. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Life often isn’t fair. But we can all strive to be fair. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Onward, fearlessly, never give up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

I love that the students at Most Holy Redeemer are learning the value of positive thoughts and actions, sharing those in an artsy, public way on kindness rocks.

Inspirational signage in one of the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Lilies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Flowers found on a kindness rock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

The rocks are spaced atop mulch among flowers and shrubbery alongside the school. I was so focused on the kindness rocks that I paid minimal attention to the plants. And I love flowers. But then again, I suppose you could say these kindness rocks are flowers. Beautiful. Lovely. Flourishing. Blooming in a space where weeds have no place.

It’s all about kindness… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

FYI: I was interviewed recently about kindness rocks by Katy Read, a writer for the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Her story about kindness rocks published online Friday morning and will be in print Saturday, June 22, in the Strib, on the Inspired page of the Variety section. She interviewed multiple sources, including those who create the rocks and why they do. Thank you, Katy, for spreading kindness with your wonderful feature story.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Sunflower field offers a quiet place to grieve August 10, 2023

The sunflowers at their prime on July 31. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)

IN THE GOLDEN HOUR before sunset on the last day of July, I grabbed my 35 mm Canon camera and headed with Randy to a field of sunflowers on Faribault’s east side. The 5-acre site, just off Division Street East behind Pleasant View Estates, is not an agri-tourism draw, but rather a place of peace, beauty and solace. A place to remember, to grieve.

Signage at the sunflower field defines its intention. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)

The nonprofit Infants Remembered in Silence created this flower-filled field with the help of donated land, volunteer planting, caretaking and more. IRIS, as the local organization is known, aims to support parents, family, friends, and professionals following the loss of a child in early pregnancy, from stillbirth, and other infant and early childhood deaths, no matter the cause.

A path winds through the field of mini sunflowers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)

Walking the mowed paths curving through the hilly land proved emotional and moving for me. While I have not lost an infant or child (I nearly miscarried with my second pregnancy), my husband has lost siblings to stillbirth and miscarriage as have others in my circle. Most recently, my niece delivered her third son way too early in pregnancy for baby Hunter to survive. It was heartbreaking for Lindsey and Brent, their parents and those of us who love them. Likewise, 42 years ago my Uncle John and Aunt Sue grieved the death of their stillborn son, Luke. I thought of Luke and Hunter and baby Cheyenne, born too early to friends Bill and Geri decades ago. There’s much loss represented in the IRIS Sunflower Garden.

Visitors pen messages and names of infants and children on a memorial whiteboard. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)

I will share more in a future post. More photos and observations and thoughts. Because I am dealing with sensory overload issues that leave me symptomatic and not feeling at all well if I’m on a screen for too long, I have to wait until I’m having a good day, good enough to visually tolerate additional photo processing and writing a longer post. It is the reason I am blogging only minimally. I am focusing on my health.

Scattered throughout the field are spaces like this to pause, reflect, grieve. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)

But today I needed to alert you to the IRIS Sunflower Garden before the blooms are dried, the field only a memory of the beautiful space it was while in full, glorious bloom 11 days ago.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Embracing the magic of fairy gardens August 2, 2023

A sign marks the Fairy Garden at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

DECIDEDLY MAGICAL. Those words describe my reaction to fairy gardens, mini scenes created with small scale fairies, gnomes, animals and more in an unexpected spot within a flower garden.

A ground level view of gnomes’ rocky woodland home in the gardens of Susan and Dale Kulsrud, featured in a 2014 garden tour. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2014)

I saw my first fairy gardens during the Northfield Garden Club 2014 Garden Tour and have loved them ever since.

A unicorn-hugging fairy in the Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

Maybe it’s the kid in me or perhaps the creative in me that appreciates these delightful scenes that transport me from reality into a storybook world. We all need to escape the chaos of life occasionally, even if but for a few minutes. Fairy gardens do just that for me.

Love depicted in a bridal couple in the master gardeners’ garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

It’s OK to embrace the child within us, to imagine living in an enchanting place where goodness and kindness and love prevail and everyone gets along. I believe those truths when I spot a fairy garden in the tranquility of a flower garden.

An overview of a section of the master gardeners’ garden in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
A variety of birds can be seen at the Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
Water bubbles from a stump water feature inside the pond. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

Recently I discovered a new fairy garden at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens located on the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault. This garden had already been a favorite spot to visit, to walk among the flowers and other plants, to observe butterflies and birds, and to watch water spilling from a water feature inside a pond.

Reflecting the cultural diversity of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

A volunteer working there on the day I stopped mentioned that the fairy garden is especially popular with kids, who often move the figurines. I love that—envisioning children playing with the mini people and animals, rearranging the scene, stories spinning through their heads. Imaginative play is something we should all engage in, even as adults. We’re never too old, or too young, for that.

Stones imitate water in this bucolic scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

Unlike real life, fairy tales always have happy endings. The prince finds Cinderella. Little Red Riding Hood defeats the Big Bad Wolf. Jack climbs the beanstalk, outsmarts the giant, escapes, and saves the day to live happily ever after. Ah, if only happily ever after was always the ending.

A bunny welcomed in the Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)

Fairy gardens offer a respite, happiness, if we we choose to pause, bend low, see them. If we choose to believe in their magic.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The poetic joy of a butterfly August 17, 2022

An Eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly atop a zinnia. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)

EVERY TIME I SPOT A BUTTERFLY, joy surges through me. There’s something about the flitting flight of a butterfly that captivates me.

But it’s more than that. I appreciate how these insects appear so carefree, as if their very existence is simply to bring beauty and joy into the world. And maybe it is.

The butterfly perches among my favorite garden flowers, zinnias. My mom planted zinnia seeds when I was growing up on the farm. Zinnias are easy to grow from seed, are prolific, hardy and colorful. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)

In recent days, I’ve observed two swallowtail butterflies, one black, the other yellow, among the phlox growing wild in my flowerbeds. And some 10 days ago I photographed an Eastern tiger swallowtail atop a zinnia at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Garden in Faribault.

That well-tended garden has become a new favorite oasis for me within the city limits. On the Sunday afternoon I visited the garden, I found friends Paula and Ed already there, resting on a bench. Paula was involved early on with development of this garden. She no longer is, but remains an active gardener. Paula was the one who spotted the swallowtail among the zinnias.

Per her direction, I headed to the zinnia patch to photograph the yellow swallowtail with wings outlined in black, splotches of blue and orange adding to the coloring.

Black-bordered wings are nearly wide open atop a zinnia. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)

The swallowtail perched, unhurried atop the yellow-centered pink flower. I had plenty of time to snap multiple frames. That’s often not the case with butterflies.

That butterflies survive a four-stage life cycle from egg to larva (caterpillar) to pupa (chrysalis) to adult butterfly impresses me. At any one stage, a predator could end their lives. But yet, here was this beautiful butterfly among the zinnias. Like the final verse in a lovely summer poem.

TELL ME: What do you appreciate about butterflies? Do you have a favorite?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Of blossoms & butterflies August 6, 2021

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Phlox. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.

PHLOX IN VIBRANT SHADES of purple and pink, interspersed with occasional white blossoms, fill my flowerbeds. They thrive, their fragrance scenting the air that drifts through my office window.

A yellow swallowtail butterfly. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.

Occasionally I spot butterflies flitting among the phlox, random milkweeds, wild orange tiger lilies, ferns and other unidentified plants growing in a tangled mess of wildness. I love watching them—the monarchs and the swallowtails—their wings flapping with such incredible grace. They swoop and dip and pause. As if dancing. As if performing. As if penning poetry.

A mess of flowers grow on a hillside next to woods in our backyard. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.

Moments like this imprint upon me the importance of pausing to appreciate the beauty of nature. The details of a flower petal. The curve of a butterfly wing. The bend of a milkweed pod.

Phlox up close. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.

Now, more than ever, I need this connection to nature, these moments to reset. To see that, even as a pandemic rages, flowers still bloom and butterflies still fly.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling